


Some Disassembly Required

by AndreaLyn



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Holidays, M/M, Strip Advent Calendar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: Nicky is a chocolate snob, which means that Joe's developed his own personalized advent calendar to give Nicky something to "open" each day in December leading up to Christmas.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 31
Kudos: 214
Collections: The Old Guard Gift Exchange 2020





	Some Disassembly Required

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ouat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ouat/gifts).



“Whoa,” says Nile, the minute Joe steps out of the bedroom.

He’s been expecting this, but he can’t lie, her reaction is worth it, even if it’s far from surprising given the picture he must paint. He’s sweltering, as he always does on December 1st. In the years they can afford to do this, when peace is plentiful and he has the chance to give Nicky his gift, December 1st means a day when he will beat the brunt of warmth for his Nicky. Brushing away the sweat, he approaches the group at the kitchen table, leaning over to kiss Nicky’s temple.

Nicky glances up from the paper, rustling it back to the front page to check the date. “I didn’t even realize,” he says with delight, spinning in his chair to study Joe. He’s counting, his eyes flicking over every part of Joe, much to Nile’s confusion.

“Okay, is this some weird pop culture thing? Because I’ve seen this episode before, but I’m not sure how it applies here…”

“It’s December 1st,” Andy cuts her off. “Nicky’s way too picky for us to buy him any kind of advent calendar, because he thinks the chocolate quality is shit…”

“It is,” Nicky mutters vindictively.

“...so instead, when we’re not in the middle of a warzone, Joe is Nicky’s advent calendar.”

Joe gives Nile a mischievous smirk, waggling his brows. “Today’s the worst of it. Every day from here on out, my Nicolo gets to decide what one piece comes off and I stop wearing it for the next day when I redress. By December 25th, he gets to fully unwrap his present,” he says joyfully, sinking down into Nicky’s lap.

He’s hoping, desperately, that the jacket will come off first, or maybe some of the underclothes, but as always, it’s Nicky’s choice.

“...do I want to ask what was the last item standing in previous years?” Nile asks, doing her own inventory as she stares at Joe. Joe’s sure that she’s clocking the heavy layers of clothing along with the extra jewellery he’s taken to wearing because as much as he loves Nicky, there’s no way that he’s going to load up a parka on top of the tank top, the button down, the hoodie, _and_ the jacket.

As it is, he’s already sweltering.

“Nicky’s kept me on my toes,” Joe admits, “It’s never been the same twice. Now,” he says, eyes on Nicky, willing ‘jacket jacket jacket’ with his brain. “What would you like to come off first this year?”

Nicky slides his fingers over the zipper of Joe’s jacket. Just when he thinks he’s got him and he’ll be getting to take it off, Nicky keeps moving his fingers upwards and yanks on the hood. “Hoodie, please,” he requests, giving Joe a playful smile.

He’d known what Joe had wanted and had deliberately denied him of it. Still, he’s not being _cruel_ , so Joe can’t complain. Standing, he unzips his jacket and slowly pulls off his hoodie, making an absolute mess of his hair, before sliding the jacket back on.

Nile still looks a little uncertain.

“So you redress every morning?”

“With one item less, yup,” Joe agrees.

“And at night, do you two…” She makes what probably should be a crude gesture with her fingers, but it comes off more like an uncoordinated conductor who may have just lost his hearing trying to direct a symphony.

Nicky sighs, as if he’s lamenting. “That is the other part of advent. I do not get to fully unwrap my present until Christmas.”

“One piece of clothing per day and no touching at night,” Joe confirms.

Andy glances up from her coffee, pointing at Nile, then to herself. “You and I are booked at the nicest spa in town a few weeks from now,” she guarantees. “That’s my Christmas present to us. We don’t have to sit here and listen to whatever pent-up yowling is going to happen here.”

Nile still doesn’t look like she understands, but she looks mildly amused. “Have fun?”

“Oh, we will,” Joe vows. 

Nicky’s no less giddy. “We always do.”

* * *

This year, Joe’s decked himself out in soft casual -- the kind of clothes you’d wear when you don’t want to leave the house. There’s a pair of compression leggings over boxer-briefs and tank top as his last layer, then the jeans, belt, button-down, socks and shoes forming the next round of defense. Hopefully, this year, Nicky won’t play at being mischievous, asking him to remove shoes ten days apart like he had that one time in 1970 (and given the heel on those things, he hadn’t been pleased to hobble around like that for days). Accessories make up the miscellaneous accoutrements, things that help add up in numbers, but not in weight and warmth.

In the last six days, he’s shed the hoodie, the jacket (thankfully, so Joe’s not sweating through the fabric every morning), the backwards baseball cap, two of the six rings he’s wearing, and the gold bracelet. 

With everything else remaining in his layers, that leaves him with the earrings he’s slid in (two of those to go) and a watch. 

Thinking back to Nile’s question about what comes last, Joe has his suspicions for what’ll be last year -- and his own private hopes. 

It’s the seventh day of Christmas (of twenty-four exciting days, because Joe’s body is the twenty-fifth) and Joe’s standing in the middle of the room waiting for today’s unwrapping. 

Unfortunately, it turns out that Andy and Nile are bored, because now this is happening by consensus, with Nicky sitting in the middle like some sort of strange Roman emperor listening to counsel from each side. 

“You’re going to have to work down the other four rings sometime,” Andy points out.

Nicky nods thoughtfully, stroking his chin with his fingers. He shifts his whole body the other way, to where Nile has her eyes fixed on Joe. “I caught him sneaking out of the bedroom this morning and I saw compression leggings under his jeans,” she says. “If Nicky wants him to be comfortable, the leggings. If he’s playing him and wanting him to wait it out...a single sock,” she says.

Did Joe piss Nile off? “Nile,” Joe complains. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Yesterday. Coffee.” She raises a brow pointedly and ah, yes, Joe remembers now.

He’d bought her an eggnog latte against her wishes, because he thought it would be festive and sweet and fun. Nile hadn’t been as happy to have her espresso order suddenly replaced by a noxiously sweet concoction. 

With the arguments made, Joe clasps his hands together to make his plea with Nicky, hoping for the compression leggings, which aren’t just hot, but are starting to rub up against him just enough that it’s becoming a problem, combined with the lack of touching.

“Andy is right. We need to start working down those rings sometime,” Nicky agrees, approaching to take hold of Joe’s right hand, pressing it palm to palm with Nicky’s own as he slides off the silver-filigree ring, holding it up to kiss it, before tucking it away into his pocket. 

He heads off, leaving Joe stuck with his current outfit for another twenty-four hours.

Still, at least he’s not about to wander around with a sockless foot rubbing against his boot. “Come on,” he says to Nile. “I’m going to buy you an espresso so you get on my side _and_ try to be a little more convincing tomorrow. No repeats.”

It turns out to cost Joe an espresso, a scone, a cookie for later, and a sketch, but it’s worth it when Nile convinces Nicky to pick the compression leggings the next day.

Stripping out of his shoes and socks in a flash, letting Nicky peel him out of the leggings, Joe points to Nile. 

“This victory is _ours_ ,” he says, hopping around as he tries not to fall (and also tries to ignore how Nicky’s face is right by his cock, with him balancing his hips as he pulls the jeans back on). 

Nile is hiding her eyes with her hand. “That’s nice, but can this victory not scar me?”

“Good luck with that,” Andy scoffs in passing. “It’s only day eight.”

* * *

On the morning of day sixteen, Joe only has nine items remaining. Nicky has been kind to him in letting him lose his shoes on days nine and ten. The button-down had vanished, followed by earring number one, another ring, and then both socks. 

Nile’s studying Joe before he heads out for Nicky’s daily undressing, circling Joe as she studies him from head to toe.

“So there’s the watch, the boxer-briefs, the earring, three rings,” Nile assesses, circling him like she’s going to pounce, “the world’s most ridiculous tank top, did you paint this on? The jeans and the belt.”

“Right.”

“You planning on telling me today what you want to be last?” 

Joe perfected his poker face centuries ago. Nile’s not about to break him now. If he tells her, there’s every chance she’s going to somehow ruin the game he’s playing to get it to be the last item, posing carefully every day to keep Nicky’s attention off That Last Item.

It’s to be revered and protected.

They don’t have time for a response, because Nicky arrives with two mugs of coffee, handing one to Joe to enjoy. Joe preens, taking the strong coffee and inhaling the bitter smell of it like it’s a heady elixir.

“Good morning, my love,” Joe greets Nicky. “What will it be today?”

Nicky sips his latte, eyes roving over Joe’s body, assessing him in his bare-footed glory. Another sip, then it seems as if he’s made his decision. He steps forward and gently unclips the silver hoop from Joe’s ear, pressing it into his palm. “There you are,” he says, leaving to go sit on the balcony and enjoy his coffee.

Joe’s pleased as punch, which Nile catches.

“I guess the earring isn’t meant to be the last one standing,” she assesses. “I’m going to find out,” she warns.

“You said, days ago, that you didn’t want to be scarred,” he reminds her. “If that’s still your goal, then no, Nile, you’re not going to.” He salutes her with her coffee, enjoying the way her expression suddenly shifts, her face looking like she’s eaten a lemon. Leaving on that beautiful image in his mind, Joe heads outside for a chilly kiss to the top of Nicky’s head before he heads back inside.

Given his lack of socks, shoes, and outer layers, he’ll be an inside Joe for the next week and change, but he can tolerate it for the reward of what’s coming.

* * *

With two days to Christmas, Joe is down to his boxer-briefs and his watch. Nile and Andy have left them alone in the safehouse two days ago (when Nicky peeled the tank top off of him, which emboldened Andy to announce that they were leaving that day). 

Their tradition happens to expire at midnight, mostly because they’re both too impatient to wait until the morning of the twenty-fifth. 

Joe is waiting near the small evergreen that they’ve put a star on (given the absence of all other decorations, it’s mostly for Nile and Joe thinks next year they should probably do better and buy ornaments). He’s dimmed the lights low, setting the mood for a romantic evening. There’s hot cocoa in mugs, twinkling lights illuminating the walls of the apartment, and Joe sitting there in his boxer-briefs and watch in that beautiful low light.

At 11:59, Nicky will remove one of them.

Then, at midnight, the other will go. 

“Are you ready for me?” Nicky calls from the bedroom.

Joe is putting the finishing touches on the room, namely making sure that there’s a bottle of lube waiting for them, along with his phone so Nicky can take a picture of Joe with his last item for commemoration of this year’s holiday celebration. He sprawls out on the sofa, arms spread wide, legs apart, and his heart racing.

“Come and get me.”

Nicky approaches looking soft and comfortable himself, in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He always insists that he should give Joe more back for his efforts, but Joe insists that the opportunity to play this game is gift enough. What else could give him twenty-five days of anticipation, glee, and excitement?

Not to mention, there’s the cash at the end of it if Nicky picks the right item last seeing as they started betting on it a few decades back.

“Well? What’s the second to last item?” Joe asks, stepping his feet out just a little more to draw Nicky’s eyes down to his boxer-briefs and the very obvious bulge. 

It does the trick. Nicky is staring at his crotch like nothing else in the world exists. 

That’s the point.

 _Come on, Nicky, come on, so close_. 

“Boxer-briefs,” Nicky says, mumbling the words almost like he’s in a trance, approaching so he can hook his fingers on them, tugging at the hem, brushing his nose against Joe’s cheek, dragging the tip up the line of his jaw.

Then, he stops, easing back.

Joe’s grinning like an idiot and Nicky must have felt it. “What?” Nicky asks.

“Oh, nothing,” Joe says casually, shifting his arm so that Nicky can see the diver’s watch that’s _still_ on his arm, even as he lifts his ass so Nicky can shift off the _second_ to last piece of clothing. “Just that you owe me five hundred,” he announces with glee.

Just as he’d hoped, the watch is the last to go.

Nicky groans and presses his forehead against Joe’s shoulder. “How do you beat me every time we do this?”

“Little bit of luck, little bit of love, and a lot of subtle guiding,” Joe soothes, hand on Nicky’s neck to bring him back in for a kiss. “I don’t care about the money,” he reminds him. “I just care that at midnight, you’re going to take off that watch and we’ll do what I’ve been waiting twenty-five days for.”

Nicky pounces on him with exhilarating abandon, proof that he’s every bit as wound up as the watch on Joe’s wrist, which falls to the floor on top of the boxer-briefs as the clock strikes midnight and Nicky finally gets to unwrap and enjoy his gift. 

The best part is that there’s no assembly required at all -- just the opposite, in fact. 

It’s the best holiday that Joe’s ever had, which will remain the very best until the next time they do this. That’s the beauty of being with Nicky. Their holidays together, their time, and everything they do is always better than the last time. 

It’s easy to live forever, when you get to do it with the love of your life, after all.


End file.
